


Happy Birthday Sir!

by PatPrecieux



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Birthday Sex, First Time, M/M, early in the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9611705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: It's Robbie's birthday. James plans a party for two.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boothros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boothros/gifts), [Marmidotte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marmidotte/gifts).



> What do you get the Geordie who has almost everything he wants? Something he needs.

Sergeant James Hathaway had been aware since last Friday that his governor was not happy about the younger man taking an extra day off. 

 

As a rule, Inspector Lewis frowned on three day weekends as a waste of police resources. The Oxfordshire police was deserving of the best each officer could give, and one half of a crack crime solving team "slacking off" was just not on. 

 

Thing was, James suspected Lewis' obvious irritation with him had to do with today, Monday 6th February, being the Inspector's birthday. 

 

Last year, when their partnership was new, Lewis had made it clear no fuss, and certainly NO GIFTS was the order of the day. At least, James had been allowed to shout his boss a pint, but nothing more. This year, well, hence the day off.

 

James, ever shy, reticent and anything BUT self-confident, had been lost from the moment the bone tired, yet affable Geordie had sighed, "Are you for me?" at their first meeting. Stopping at Val Lewis' grave that day, Hathaway stood, head bowed, as a grieving husband mourned quietly. James hadn't dared to raise his face, lest this man, who he didn't even know, would see the tears in his eyes.

 

The Church teaches to suffer for your faith is required. If that was true, James decided he had already secured his place in heaven. At first, he had ignored his infatuation with Lewis. Then, he reluctantly acknowledged his "hero worship" crush. But finally, he was forced to admit he was deeply in love with Robert Lewis.

 

Although, the older man could be gruff, and almost as private as his Sergeant, he was also kind, forgiving and accepting. Once, they had slogged through a ridiculous conversation about sexual orientation. James had stammered like a kid about shoes, musicals, "girlie" magazines, and, Jesus, who the hell argues what candy bar you fancy makes you straight or gay?!

 

The lanky blond had been humiliated and devastated until Lewis had pierced him with a fierce glare and said it just didn't matter. From that day, Hathaway had harbored a faint hope that his feelings might be returned. 

 

His fear of losing his friend's respect had been relieved, and James decided to try "wooing" his boss. He tried humor, subtlety, and one disastrous effort to make Lewis jealous. The Inspector had been so delighted at James finding a "boyfriend" he tried to help things along. What a mess that had been, ending with a sad Lewis consoling Hathaway over the loss of a sod he didn't even like!

 

So James had spent months pining away, until, one day, a uniformed officer had thrown out an old "chestnut" to his younger partner smitten with a secretary in SOCO. "Faint heart never won fair maiden, mate." That lit James afire. Robbie wasn't a maiden, and Sergeant Hathaway was done being a gentleman!

 

~~~***~~~

 

Robbie Lewis had been a bear all day. Most accepted he was less cheerful without the "balm" that was his Sergeant, but this particular Monday had been epic in the annals of the Inspector in a foul mood. He had even refused a small cake and offer of a few drinks after work.

 

Growling about frittering away police time and resources, he grabbed his coat and slammed out the door, leaving Jean Innocent's assistant holding the cake, her lower lip trembling.

 

The little voice in his head told Lewis he should be ashamed of himself. The girl was young and only trying to be nice. He shouldn't have made her cry, but dammit, he was royally pissed, and really, truthfully, couldn't be arsed to care. 

 

Yes, he had told James never to make anything of birthdays, but that was no excuse for the young whelp forgetting and abandoning Lewis entirely. Well, he was old enough to get on with it, and when he got home, "it" was going to be several large glasses of whiskey.

 

His anger stoked to a roaring flame, Lewis whipped his car around the last corner to his flat. "What the bloody fuck!"

 

~~~***~~~

 

Inside said flat, James was standing at the stove getting ready to put the veal roast in the oven. Several hours should see it slow cooked to a turn, at which point, he hoped, both he and his boss would have worked up an appetite.

 

Seeing lights on in the flat, Robbie was ready for a robber, or more likely, his meddlesome landlady, who was in serious jeopardy of arrest tonight. Car door crashing, keys rattling in the front lock, Lewis burst into the entryway.

 

Before he could shout his displeasure, his eyes swept through the open space to the kitchen. What he saw, killed whatever words were in his mouth, and erased whatever thoughts were on his mind.

 

Bending over the oven, pushing in some sort of meat, was James. His tall, blond Sergeant wearing a knee length chef's apron, and one very shiny, very purple, very small thong.

 

It was the kind with only a waistband, and thin strip of cloth nestled between two of the palest, plushest, prettiest arse cheeks Lewis had ever seen. The thought shook him. Why was he cataloging this like a crime scene, when no crime had been committed? Yet. Yet? Christ, where had that come from? 

 

James, to his credit, stood up like a regal knight, albeit not in metal armor, and smiled. "Good evening Sir. Felicitations."

 

Turning around, he modeled the apron which proved to be one bearing the message "Happy Birthday", along with a cake pictured with a smiley face on top. Just as quickly, James turned back to the counter to pour two glasses of wine, all the while his "assets" swaying like perfect bubbles on the breeze. 

 

Lewis managed, at last, to find his voice, "Hathaway man what is this?"

 

Once more bending over with an exaggerated grace, James smirked, "I'm very afraid, Sir, if you don't recognize what THIS is," he patted his bum, "our evening isn't going to turn out quite as I had hoped."

 

Robbie clinked glasses with James and drank half his wine. "And tell me lad, what is it you are hoping for?"

 

"The usual Monday night, Sir. Good food, drink, some birthday cake after the traditional candle business." James glided behind Lewis helping the Inspector out of his coat.

 

"I am sorry to report Sir that dinner will be several hours, so perhaps we should do candles and presents while we wait." As he spoke, James gently pushed Lewis down to sit on the sofa.

 

"Never one to turn down things in me own best interest. Hate to tell you though, clever clogs, nary a candle to be seen on that cake of yours." 

 

If a smile could be virginal and wicked at the same time, James was wearing it. "Quite correct as always Sir. Allow me." Unfastening the apron, Hathaway pulled it over his head unveiling the front of the thong.

Embroidered on the fabric over James' already rigid cock were two lighted candles with "Blow Me" above the flames. "Can I interest you in blowing the candles, Sir?"

 

Robbie stood so suddenly, James almost fell back on his bare bum. "Robbie, if you, I mean, if I've offended, that is...I'm sorry, Sir." With that, the Sergeant turned to stumble away.

 

Reaching out, Lewis grabbed a long arm. "As well you should be you brat. Imagine right here in me sitting room, like a common rent boy! You flash a naked arse and stiff prick, and expect me to service you on the bloody sofa?! What the hell kind of present is one that wrecks me back? Old as I am, don't I deserve the comfort of me bed to enjoy my present?"

 

James let out a sound half laugh, half sob and took a rough, callused hand in his. "Of course Sir. What do you suggest?"

 

Robbie claimed James' mouth in a passionate kiss, "A thorough investigation, lad. Think we're about to commit several crimes."

 

~~~***~~~

 

Flat on his back, the front of his thong wet from Robbie blowing the candles, James writhed under the caress of his Governor who was looking at the blond as if he was Lewis' everything.

 

"Let's get this off you bonny lad. I feel like eating something sweet." James went beet red. "Luv, if you don't want that..."

 

Scrambling up to remove the thong, Hathaway grinned. "No, it's fine. Guess I'm just embarrassed I went off like a teenager all over your candles."

 

Robbie snorted, "Good on you James. We shouldn't have flames in bed anyway." 

 

"But sweets are good, yeah?"

 

"Oh indeed, pet." Flipping James over and licking broad strokes over hills and valleys, Robbie groaned, "Best frosting on the cake ever, Sergeant."

 

As another "present" was to be offered, a loud buzz came from the kitchen. James hissed, "Shit! That's the roast. Sorry Sir."

 

"Never you mind luv, won't do me a mischief to refuel before I open that last package. Much as I love you James, I'm starved. Sort of skipped lunch today while I was busy feeling sorry for meself."

 

James kissed a broad shoulder, "Apologies, but I was tired of dancing around us and never getting anywhere. Think that's changed, Robbie. So food, then more, ah Birthday Banging?"

 

"Birthday Banging, lad? What is that in Latin, then?"

 

James giggled, "Anus Bangus? Just one of our new birthday traditions Sir?"

 

"One of many yet to be explored, pet. 'Sides, there's an old tradition we've still ahead."

 

"Enlighten me Sir, some obscure Geordie ritual?"

 

"Not restricted to the North, no. Sure even your posh self is familiar with the Birthday Spanking?"

 

James' eyes went wide, "Robbie, I love you too, and want you to be satisfied, but I'm not sure," he stared at his hands," I don't know if I can do, THAT."

 

Robbie gently kissed James, and then filled both his hands with a generous portion of Hathaway arse cheeks.

 

"Then we're both getting our Birthday Wish. Don't want a Birthday Spanking darling boy," Robbie waggled his eyebrows and grinned, "want to give one."

 

James nuzzled Robbie's neck. "Then by all means. Happy Birthday Sir."

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to Kevin Whately. 
> 
> Don't reckon this was on his gift list. LOL.
> 
> With thanks and praise to Boothros and Marmidotte who got my muse going today! ;)


End file.
